


Like Civilized Beings

by Mogatrat



Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Light Side Sith Warrior, oops it got smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2020-10-26 13:07:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20742683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mogatrat/pseuds/Mogatrat
Summary: When the Sith who takes Vette from the pens tears off Vette's collar the second she can, it throws her for a loop. She's not sure what to think of Megara, but she knows she sorta likes her.Which is a problem, because Megara seems sure that Vette ought to leave as soon as possible.





	1. Freedom

_ That’s a weird Sith. _

Vette could swear the Sith heard that, as the object of her study suddenly turns and regards her with those odd, pure violet eyes. She's blue, a shade lighter than Vette herself, her hair a few shades darker, thick and short. She's taller than the jailer, broader too. Nervously, Vette shies away from the bars, even as her jailer starts to instruct the Sith in her task, placing prisoners in judgement. Normally, when Sith come in and throw their weight around, Vette can't stop her tongue despite the shocks of the collar; this time, she just watches, listens to the dulcet tones of the woman's voice, calm and quiet. She offers mercy to two, death to one, and leaves without another word.

"Quit staring, worm!" her jailer shouts, and Vette doubles over as her spine seizes. She hadn't thought she was staring.

* * *

The Sith returns a day later. She ignores the question posed by the jailer and addresses Vette directly.

"You were in the tomb of Naga Sadow when you were arrested, yes?" she asks. Vette swallows, trying to find her voice.

"Yeah, and the only reason I got caught was 'cuz I fell off the ceiling. Took you guys forever. Aren't you supposed to have super-senses or something?"

The Sith smiles softly. "One would assume. You knew what you were doing, then. How to access the inner chambers."

"What's it to you?"

"Don't talk back, sla—" the jailer begins, but the Sith holds up a hand and he shuts up.

"The better question is, what's it to you, and the answer is your life. If you accompany me and show me what you know, you may yet leave Korriban intact."

"As your slave, you mean."

"I assure you, servitude to me is far better than whatever fate awaits you here." The Sith gestures to the jailer. "Lord Baras has granted me leave to take this slave. Her control, please."

"Of course."

The Sith takes the remote and stuffs it into her armor while the jailer opens Vette's cell. "Do we have an accord?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Nominally. Stay or go. Much the same choice I've been given. Shall we?" She offers a hand to Vette. Vette side-eyes her suspiciously, but lets herself be pulled from the cell.

"She had these on her when we caught her," the jailer says, taking twin blasters from a locker on the wall. 

"Give them to her. We all know the dangers of the tombs. And before you ask, yes, I know how to use a shock collar."

Vette takes her blasters, feeling as though she's caught in some strange dream. She could turn these on the Sith at any time - but she won't. She doesn't think she'd survive the attempt.

The Sith leads her outside and down into the Valley, but just before they enter the tomb, she tells Vette to duck behind a stone and stand still. Vette freezes as the Sith approaches her from behind, breathing shallow, ready to run. Metal knuckles graze the skin on the back of her neck, and then a shriek of breaking metal, and electrodes extruding themselves from Vette's flesh.

She glances over her shoulder, afraid to believe, but the Sith steps back, two halves of the slave collar broken in her hands.

"...why?" Vette asks, rubbing the back of her neck and coming away with purple blood on her hand. The pain starts to burn.

"Slavery is abhorrent. It does not become us. Hold still." Vette gulps and feels the palms of the Sith on her skin, a cool sensation spreading down her back. "That ought to stop the bleeding."

Vette steps away, turns, tries to breathe. Those violet, strange eyes. "You're a weird Sith," she manages, standing up straight. She's a proud Twi'lek. She has to look her in the eye and speak her mind.

"I am well aware." That half-smile again. "You are no slave of mine. Tell me your name, and I shall tell you mine, and we shall cooperate like civilized beings."

"...all right. Vette."

"You may call me Megara. Whenever you wish to leave, you may do so — but for now, we are both trapped on this dusty grave of a world, so shall we work to get off?"

"We shouldn't get off out here, someone could see!" Vette says before she can stop herself.

There's a moment of pause, and Megara laughs, like she's never done it before. "You're a delight," she informs Vette. "I'll take that as a yes. Show me what you know, Vette."

* * *

"Can you go anywhere without having to kill a hundred people?" Vette asks, collapsing into the bed in their berth. She groans, rolling onto her back and grimacing as her still-holstered blasters dig into her hips. 

"Apparently not," Megara replies dryly, slumping against the door once it closes behind her. "I suppose this is my life, now. Get on any given ship, I may be told at any time to ram it into a Republic corvette."

"I've gotta get outta here," Vette grumbles, unhooking her holsters and dropping them to the floor. "You think they'll make a pitstop at some reasonable place for repairs?"

"Straight to Dromund Kaas, I think. Don't want the General slipping away. And…" Megara sighs. "Vette, I don't want to tell you what to do. But I don't think it'd be safe for you, a lone Twi'lek, to try to get around Kaas City on your own. It might be best to wait until we can ensure you won't be enslaved again."

Vette stares up at the ceiling, wondering. Is this a trick, this whole freedom idea? Will Megara keep Vette in service forever, killing at her side, while offering entirely reasonable excuses for Vette to remain? 

She's seen how little freedom Megara has, though. How little freedom anyone has in the Empire, even the officers and the Sith. One crazy Moff has an idea and you better hop to it or they'll send someone else who's more obedient to kill you. 

"I mean to move up, you know. It's either that or die, really," Megara says, almost to herself. Vette glances over at her. Megara holds the Padawan's lightsaber in her hands, turning it over, tracing the artful engravings in the casing. "Whenever I have the power, I want you truly free. I'm not sure I can escape — but somehow, I get the feeling you've already done that, and disappeared, before."

"You wanna escape?" Vette asks, sitting up. "Where to?"

Megara snaps her head up, clearing her throat. "I— forgive me, I'm exhausted, speaking nonsense." She clips the saber to her belt. "That was my first real lightsaber duel, you know. She fought well. I suspect Baras will be impressed."

"Well, let's hope that gets us our own ship soon. That other Sith we were working with creeps me out."

Megara laughs. "Vette, you always say what I'm thinking." She starts to take off her armor. Vette rolls over. She needs to stop looking at her. She definitely stares. "Are you quite certain you're not Force-sensitive?"

"Never got evaluated. Maybe I'm just mind-tricking you to think I'm funny," Vette replies, wondering if she should start undressing too — after all, it's just the two of them, and she does need sleep. But it feels strange. A day ago, Megara was a stranger.

"You are funny, Vette. I rather enjoy your company. I'm sorry that all I have to offer in return is bloodshed."

Vette tries not to think about how many shots she fired into innocent people aboard the Brentaal Star.

"I assume you don't mind if I take top," Megara says, making Vette turn back to face her, which is a mistake, or it feels like one. She's just in a tank top and shorts, muscles flexing as she pulls herself up to the top bunk above Vette. Stars, she needs to stop eating the eye candy. 

As the lights dim and Vette is left to her own thoughts, she knows she should be thinking about escape, how to leave the Empire she's headed to the heart of, but her mind keeps wandering back to Megara, wondering what her real story is, what species she even is. Vette's never met anyone like her. She wishes, for a moment, that they didn't agree that it was best for them to separate as soon as possible.

Then her brain turns back on, she grinds her palm into her forehead, and tries to sleep.

* * *

"I'd like to remind you that this is _ your _capital planet," Vette pants as they finally spot the gates to Kaas City before them, wiping the rain from her face. "This is your jewel."

"I'm not to blame for the speeders being out," Megara says, clipping her sabers, the red and green, back onto her belt and cracking her neck. "I want under that overhang."

"Stars, yes. Race you!" Vette calls, rushing ahead to the gates. She ducks under the overhang and watches Megara struggle to match her speed with her pack on her back, but eventually they stand together against the wall, sighing at the relief from the rain. Vette shakes her lekku free of droplets, Megara stifling a chuckle.

"What?" Vette asks indignantly.

"It's endearing, is all."

"Wouldn't kill you to use small words, you know. I'm cute. Admit it."

"Not on your life." Megara pulls up her wrist, checking her chronometer. "We made decent time. Better, I think, than Baras expected."

"What are you thinking?" Vette asks.

"I've a fair amount of credits saved. I'm thinking...a hotel, a shower, a change of clothes," Megara murmurs, pulling up her datapad and checking the listings. "You've nought but the clothes on your back, yes?"

"Blew up my ship when they found it," Vette grumbles. "So, yeah."

"We'll get you sorted out." Megara stretches. "Come along, the sooner we get moving, the sooner we get sleeping."

Vette's heart jumps a bit. Megara's acting like this is such a small thing, but who just buys things for someone they've just met, who they plan to leave as soon as it's safe, who's supposed to be her lesser in every way? No one she'd known, growing up. 

"You are a _ weird _ Sith, you know," is what comes from these thoughts, and Megara just laughs. Vette's starting to like that sound.

* * *

The Sith do know their luxury. Vette relaxes onto the hotel bed in a soft robe, her fingers unconsciously stroking the fluffy fabric. As Megara heads in to taker her turn at the shower, Vette calls out to her, "Hey, do you mind if I order room service? I'm starving."

"Help yourself, and order me something...crustacean, if you can," Megara replies, closing the refresher door. Vette pores over the menu for a moment, finds a dish she thinks fits Megara's description, and sends in the order over the room's datapad. Once that's done, she finds herself laying horizontal across the bed, reveling in the free time for a moment.

She should be dressed whenever food arrives, she figures, and sits up to examine the suitcase at the foot of her bed. In addition to the basic necessities of a week's worth of basic outfits, Megara had taken her to an armorer, so she'd be protected in any future fights she might have to help out in. She'd tried on a sample set there, but she'd yet to truly wear her own armor.

She decided to really try it, really suit up for once. It wasn't heavy; in fact, the suit was surprisingly light and flexible, the chestplate being the only significantly bulky part. She could spot the cortosis weave running in gold streams just under the black surface, and realized suddenly just how valuable this purchase had been; she'd never want for protection again. She could take a lightsaber blow, and not die immediately. That isn't something everyone can say.

She checks herself in the mirror, cocking a hip. Yeah. She can definitely hold some slaver scum at gunpoint in this. In fact…

She takes up her blasters from where she'd left them on the table, pointing them at herself in the mirror, imaging rad laser sights. Maybe some goggles would complete the look…

The door opens behind her and she swivels to find Megara wrapped in a towel, hair shining wet, skin glistening fresh and clean. "Fearsome," is all she says, with that soft smile that's starting to drive Vette a little crazy. A knock comes at the door, and Megara cocks her head in its direction. "Mind getting that for me?"

"Uh—" Vette quickly places her blasters back on the table. "Uh, yeah." She brushes past Megara, and tries not to think about things like defined collarbones, or strong shoulders, or bow-shaped lips curved into a fraction of a smile.

* * *

"First one on the master bed gets it!" Vette calls as she drops her luggage and charges up the loading ramp to their brand-new ship, aiming her palm for the button. She suddenly freezes, hand less than a centimeter from the surface, stuck in place as Megara calmly walks up beside her.

"It's not a fair race if you have a head start," she says, waving her hand and releasing Vette from stasis. She sticks her tongue out at Megara.

"All right, then, cheater. On three." Vette shakes herself off of the weird residual Force-tingles and counts down. As soon as the door opens the two of them are jostling up the stairs, knocking some poor steward droid over in their mad dash around the ship, searching for the master bedroom. Vette launches herself at the bed as soon as she sees it, throwing her hands out in front of her to avoid slamming her head into the wall. They hit the bed simultaneously, or close enough, because when Vette rolls over they're face-to-face, and she kind of loses track of everything.

"Not sure who won," Megara says with a smile, "But I am the Sith here."

"So? Rules are rules. I'm staying right here. If you wanna —" Vette shuts her mouth. She has _ got _to stop impulse-flirting with the blasted Sith. 

"If I want to what?" Megara asks.

"Nothing, almost said we could share but you look like a blanket hogger if I ever saw one." Vette jumps up and stands, bouncing in place. "So we're going to Balmorra next, huh?"

"Yes. It's Imperial territory and a warzone as well, I'm afraid, so it may not be wise to leave me just yet. You're free to go regardless, of course."

"You're always bringing up me leaving, you're a bummer," Vette complains, heat kindling in her cheeks. She hadn't even thought about leaving at the next port, even though, really, everything they went through on Dromund Kaas should've convinced her that she's in Crazyville, and like, the nice parts of Crazyville to boot. 

"A bit of projection, I suppose," Megara murmurs, sitting up and sighing, pushing her hair back. Vette fidgets for a moment, then takes a seat beside her.

"How'd you end up a Sith when it seems like you never want to be one?" she asks, carefully. 

"An accident of birth, you might say." Megara swallows. "I am Chiss. I'm not sure if you knew that."

"Yeah, kinda awkward to ask someone, 'hey, what are you?' if you don't wanna look like an idiot," Vette says with a chuckle.

"The Chiss Ascendancy is allied with the Empire. But they have... different ideas about Force-sensitivity. A disease to be purged. So much so that those of us who even seem to be likely to develop the talent — say, the few of us born with purple eyes, instead of red — are exterminated upon discovery. My parents saw little choice and gave me to the Academy. It's a wonder it didn't cause a diplomatic incident. Perhaps it did."

"Sith are meant to be the embodiment of freedom in the Empire, but what freedom is there when the alternative to brutality is death?" Megara asks, her shoulders slumping. "There is no place for me except the one that others carved for me. I think you've had more opportunity in your life to create your own spaces. Am I wrong?"

Vette bites her lip. "I mean, hard to say, you know? I was born a slave, but when you escape that life...and run far enough, I guess... nobody's gonna know who you are. Nobody's gonna come after you. I guess that's not what would happen if you tried it. You sorta stand out. Not, like, in a bad way, I mean. But I don't think you can just jet off to Port Nowhere and hop on somebody's freighter for odd jobs."

"Exactly. I just...I think you're a lovely young woman with a lot of life yet left in her. I'd hate for you to suffer my fate."

"You're acting like you don't have any life left. That's not true at all." Vette lays her hand beside Megara's thigh, wanting her to take it, but not wanting to push. This feels important. 

Megara chuffs, her hands tensing, staying at her side. "You've only seen me when you're around. Your vitality's contagious, I think."

Vette elbows her. "You can just say you like me, you know."

Megara laughs then, warming Vette's chest. "Forgive the overwrought vocabulary. A lifetime in the academy has its effects. Sith are so theatrical." She stands, stretching. "We'd best get the rest of our belongings on the ship, yes? We've got somewhere to be, after all."

Vette deflates, tries to bury the strange feeling of losing her chance. "I...yeah, yeah, let's be responsible Imperials, I guess."

"Oh, don't call yourself that," Megara says with a chuckle. "How degrading." 

"If Baras could hear you now he'd start screaming again."

"And that's why he cannot. Come along, let's not delay any further, to spare us such a fate."

As Vette gets to her feet to follow Megara, one part of her says _ Should've gone for it when you had the chance, _ and another, probably smarter, part says _ The chance for _ ** _what?_ **

She ignores both.

* * *

She doesn't like him.

She can feel it from the second she meets him, the way he fawns over Megara, the desperation to please, the obvious angling for a way out of his crappy post. It ignites something in Vette, something ugly, something that makes her want to bite. _Go away, go away, go away._

But Malavai Quinn's assignment to their ship arrives, as inevitable as gravity's pull, and now he's in her _ room, _ looking to mess with her _ stuff. _At least that's what she assumes he's here to do as the door opens and she stands in front of him.

He clears his throat. "I'm conducting an inspection."

"Yep, all good here, very Imperial and up to code and junk." Vette folds her arms. "Go on ahead with your inspection, all fine."

He raises his eyebrows. "Have I done something to offend?"

"Nope! Just, this is my area, and I've got it locked down, okay? I know how to maintain an engine."

Quinn bristles. "Be that as it may, I outrank you, and it's part of my duties to—"

"'Scuse me?" Vette puts her hands on her hips.

"Well, I am an officer, and you are a slave, so—"

"Do you _ see _a collar around my neck, pencil boy?" Vette interjects, turning her head and holding her lekku up. Quinn clears his throat again. Annoying.

"I...see scars where one might have been."

"Take a guess who took it off." Vette turns back to face him, and she watches his face as he tries to process it through the maze of regs he calls his head.

"You're...her apprentice?" he asks, and Vette laughs in his face.

"Like I'd be a Sith. I think the only important thing is that I've been here longer and I know her better than you do. Being liked by a Sith is worth, like, at least a Major rank, right?"

Quinn scoffs. "I doubt she holds_ you _ in such esteem—

"Listen, buddy, we had a good thing going before you showed up and you're not gonna screw it up—"

"What _ did _you have going, exactly—"

"You wouldn't understand because you've got a datapad for a brain—"

"Captain Quinn," startles them both, as Megara's voice suddenly echoes through the halls. "Is there a problem here?" She walks into Vette's view, towering over Quinn.

"I apologize, my lord. I'm simply trying to inspect the engine room, but—"

"It's all in order, Captain — at least it is by my own standards, which are the ones we follow aboard this vessel. I trust Vette with the engines. But if it vexes you so, she's likely to disembark at our next destination."

"My lord, pardon my bluntness, but what precisely is she doing aboard this ship?" Quinn asks. Vette is almost too surprised by Megara's comment to remember to roll her eyes.

"She is my friend, Captain. Let's leave it there, shall we? I'm sure you've more pressing business to attend to." Megara's face betrays no emotion whatsoever, but her tone is clear.

Quinn bows slightly. "Of course, my lord. Forgive my unbecoming behavior."

"I'm no Lord yet, Captain. Perhaps we can simply call each other by our names aboard the Fury? All of us should respect one another as beings, yes?"

"I— certainly, Megara."

"Thank you, Malavai. I have something to discuss with Vette, if you'd mind giving us privacy?"

"Of course. I apologize again for the disturbance." Quinn wanders off while Megara comes into Vette's room, closing the door behind her.

"What a tightwad," Vette complains, and Megara stifles a giggle.

"He is… a product of his upbringing, as are we all. I suspect that in the right place and the right time he'd be a valuable ally. Pity he's stuck with me, the weird Sith."

Vette laughs, then coughs, thinking, retreating to her cot in the back of the room. She sits on the edge and dangles her feet. "So, um...you wanted to talk to me? Guessing it's about what you said back there?"

Megara swallows. "Yes. Our next destination is Nar Shaddaa. I assume that is somewhere you're familiar with."

"...yeah. I've got contacts there. Could get back into my old life, I think. Getting back Twi'lek artifacts." Vette bites her lip, looking down at her feet. 

"It sounds like a noble cause."

"Yeah." An idea strikes Vette, and she looks up. "Hey, if we're hitting Nar Shaddaa, I should take you out for drinks before you leave."

"I…" There's a purple blush in Megara's cheeks that matches her eyes. Vette's heart swells. "I'm afraid I wouldn't be much fun. After all, I've not ever...indulged."

"Oh, that's just a challenge to me!" Vette says with a sly grin. "Now we gotta do it. Tell you what, I'll hook up with my people, give you my frequency, and you let me know when your Sith-y stuff is done. I'll show you the best spots."

"It's a deal, Vette," Megara concedes. "I've got to prepare for our next mission, but...it will be nice to see you off."

"Yeah. Same to you, weirdo."

Megara flashes her a smile before she leaves, and Vette lies back and stares up and the ceiling.

She wishes that Megara wouldn't leave her alone with her thoughts quite so often.

* * *

"You're going out drinking and not taking us?" Taunt asks from behind Vette as she checks her makeup in the mirror. She can barely see herself in this dingy apartment the guys called their 'secret base.' "You've been back for one day!"

"It's not anything against you guys!" she insists, turning around to face her. "Really. It's just, you know, she's a Sith, we're kinda on opposite sides, sorta."

"She got us back the Star," Taunt points out. "And she freed you."

"Okay, so she's a weird Sith." 

"I think we could go drinking with a weird Sith! First time for everything."

"It's...not like that. It's sort of a goodbye. Personal, you know?" Vette shrugs helplessly. "We went through some serious stuff together. Don't wanna just disappear."

"Yeah, yeah, another big sister for Vette," Taunt says, rolling her eyes.

Something about that idea irks Vette, and she blushes beneath her blush. "It's... not like that, either."

Taunt's eyes widen. "Ooh. Oh."

"...yeah. I mean. I guess." Vette shifts awkwardly from foot to foot. It's kind of nice being able to tell someone, even indirectly. "There's this...energy. You know?"

"So you haven't actually…?" Taunt leans against the wall, looking her up and down. "You gonna try and start something, huh?"

"M-maybe. I don't know. This is crazy."

"Hey, girl, shoot your shot, right?"

Vette sighs in relief, looking at her old friend and realizing how much she’d missed her. “You know I never miss.”

“I don’t know, Vette, might be a pretty hard target even for you.” Taunt chuckles. “C’mere, kid.”

They share a hug, and as Vette steps back, she sweeps a hand over her outfit — nothing special, but she picked out the black leather jacket on a trip to the Promenade, and she thought it looked good over the white tank. “How do I look?” she asks. Taunt puts a hand on her chin.

“Yeah, I could see you hanging off a Sith’s arm. I mean, really, you’d need a red dye-job for your skin, some yellow contacts maybe, but…”

Vette laughs. “She’s blue too!”

“She don’t make much of a Sith either, lookin’ at her. But looks ain’t everything.” Taunt puts a hand on her shoulder. “Have a great night, kid. Call me when you need a ride home."

"Of course." Vette looks around the apartment. _ Home. _It was, once. One of them. Is it now?

She shakes her head to clear her thoughts, then notices her holocom beeping in her pocket. "That's her," she tells Taunt, starting for the door. "Don't wait up!"

* * *

She hops off the public speeder as it passes over her destination, landing with a practiced roll and popping up right in front of Megara's face. She takes a step back, then laughs.

"A trick from your pirate days, I take it?" she asks.

"You know it. Don't have to pay for the speeder that way, or walk." Vette takes a moment to look at Megara now that she's at rest, and finds herself pleased to see Megara out of her armor — not even her lightsabers at her hip, Vette notes. She looks like she's heading to the cargo bay to work out, in a tank top, steel-toed boots and sweat pants, but she blends into the Nar Shaddaa crowd better than Vette would've expected, especially with her hair slicked back like that.

Realizing she's been staring, Vette clears her throat. "This bar's a relic from those days, too. Everything they serve here is toxic to at least one major sentient species.”

“The Cesspool,” Megara reads aloud, quirking an eyebrow. “Do they have Chiss on the list?”

“Y’know, don’t think so,” Vette says with a shrug. “Ready to gamble with your life?”

“That’s my profession,” Megara says with a smile. “Shall we?”

“Oh, we shall. You’re paying, right?”

“I just received a rather sizable stipend for my work here, so, yes, I think I can manage that.” 

“A true hero, giving reparations to the Twi’lek people,” Vette says with a mock bow as she backs herself into and through the door. “Get me drunk.”

Megara laughs softly as they take their seats at the bar. The Gand barkeep spots Vette and throws his hands into the air, chittering a bit in his language before Vette remembers enough of the language to get the gist. 

“Good to see you too, Ion. You know they can’t keep me down for long. We’ll just be a minute, all right? My friend needs to check out the menu,” Vette tells him, and he nods before heading off to see to another of his customers at the far end. Vette turns to Megara, who’s studying the holoboard above the bar intently. “So, what’ll it be?”

“I’m afraid I’m at a loss,” Megara admits. “I’ve never indulged before, remember?”

“_Still_ can't believe that. I thought Sith were all about, like, hedonism and debauchery and all that stuff.” 

“I didn’t get invited to all the cool Sith parties,” Megara says with a sigh. “I was a dedicated student. Disciplined, they called me. My instructors always liked me, but they never took me for drinks.”

“Well, that’s a cryin’ shame. Huh.” Vette scans the menu. “Oh, here’s one. Kelot. Selkath booze. They can’t take much because they absorb toxins too fast, so they drink this fermented kolto that hits you a lot smoother ‘cuz it’s still sorta healing you. Or they suck it through their gills. I hear there’s some spots on Manaan that are just, like, floating clouds of it that they swim through.”

“Sounds odd.” Megara puts a hand on her chin.

“It glows blue.”

“Well, that’s a pitch if I’ve ever heard one. I’m sold.”

“Ion!” Vette waves the Gand over and orders their shots, choosing something a little harder — she’s pretty sure it’s Bith — and watches as Megara takes her first shot. 

She chokes on it.

Vette bursts out laughing as Megara tries to quiet herself, then shoots a glare at Vette. “I’ve never drank anything that burned before!” she insists defensively, which only makes Vette giggle more.

“Oh, the big tough Sith can’t even handle fish-people hooch,” Vette teases, poking her in the shoulder. 

“I’ll prepare better for the next one.” Megara crosses her arms. “Barkeep!”

“Might wanna slow down there, Megara, you don’t know how much you can handle.”

“Meg.”

“Hm?”

“I’d...I’d like it if you called me Meg,” she says, looking away for a moment. “I always thought it’d be nice to have my friends call me that.”

“Uh...yeah, okay, sure, Meg.” Truth be told, Vette had often started to say Meg and then second-guessed herself and went for the full name. Meg was still pretty intimidating, even after all their time together.

Ion appears before them, cutting off Vette’s train of thought as she quickly knocks back her own shot while Megara orders two of the same. Meg does take the second shot better, setting it down with a sigh as though she’d conquered another enemy. After Vette follows suit, she looks over and asks, “So what’s, like, your full name, anyway? Don’t Chiss have those super long names and all?”

“Been reading up on my kind on the Holonet, have we?” 

“You don’t gotta tell me if you don’t wanna!” Vette holds up her hands. “Just curious, is all.”

Meg lets out a sigh, looking at her feet. “I don’t actually have a proper Chiss name. I was taken to the Academy as an infant, and my parents didn’t want to name me — they couldn’t have their name attached to an abomination like myself, after all. I chose my own name when I was young. Until then I was just _ Chiss_, or perhaps _ whelp. _”

“Hey, no shame in that,” Vette says, smiling. “Choosing your own name is cool. You don’t think I was born Vette, do ya?”

“Oh, really?” Megara raises her eyebrows. “Well, since you wanted _ my _name…”

“It’s Ce’na. Nothing special. Vette sounded cooler, and it made for a good pirate name. You wouldn’t know it, but there’s a _ lot _of Twi’lek girls named Ce’na out there. Not a lot of Vettes.”

Megara raises a hand in the air and calls Ion back over, and he delivers them another pair of shots without another word. Megara holds up her glass. “To choosing our own destiny, Vette. Whenever we can.” 

“Yeah. To freedom.” They clink and drink, and as Vette sets her glass down, she thinks. “...hey, I never really thanked you for that.”

“For what?” Megara’s violet eyes betray no emotion. Sometimes Vette wishes she could tell what she was thinking.

“Freeing me. As soon as you could. You didn’t have to do that, or...or buy me clothes, and armor, and...everything.” Vette gulps. “You did more for me than almost anyone I’ve ever met, and you literally got me as a gift.”

“You’ve nothing to thank me for, Vette,” Megara says, looking away awkwardly. “It’s...the least I could do, for someone who came into my care when she didn’t want to.”

“That’s the thing, though. It isn’t, not at all. That’s not how you treat a slave. I was one long enough to know that,” Vette argues. “How’d you get all these, like, ideas about morality? I thought Sith weren’t really into that.”

“You would be surprised, the records and knowledge one can access in the Academy when the Lords aren’t paying you any mind,” Megara says softly. “I could find no solace in the Sith code, not when I never felt like freedom was real. But there are other ways of looking at life...at the Force. I discovered ways to make my instruction bearable.”

“Like what?’ Vette doesn’t know why she’s practically whispering. She’s getting the feeling that Megara is talking about things that would get her killed, if any in the Empire heard her speak.

“The Jedi. The Jal Shey. The Aing-Ti. We had records on many other traditions. I found my way through them all, ways to understand what I was going through and how to survive it.” Megara breathed out, slowly. “I suspect, that if Nomen Karr’s padawan looks upon me, she will not see a Sith. Not truly.”

“Woah.” Vette swallows. “You think if you find her...you might be in trouble?”

“I don’t know. I’ve been thinking about it. I can only hope I’ll find a way to protect myself, when the time comes.” Megara looks up. “I’m sorry, Vette, this is meant to be a happy occasion. I don’t mean to sound so dire.”

“No, no, no, this is good,” Vette insists. “I like talking with you, no matter what about.”

Megara smiles back at her. “You’d be the first to say so.”

“That’s ‘cuz Sith are lame and Twi’leks are fun and awesome.”

“I’ve only a small sample size, but I’d have to agree,” Megara says with a soft laugh. She pauses. “You know, it’s starting to get a bit crowded in here.” Vette looks around, and sees that it must be nearing peak hours in here — they’re fast running out of safe gaps in the bar. “But Baras sent me a bottle of Sparkwine for good service. I’ve been keeping it in my room aboard the Fury. I think now I’ve got the courage to try it.”

“Sparkwine?”

“Grown and electrified in the jungles of Dromund Kaas. It’s supposed to be quite potent.”

“Hey, I’m always up for new experiences,” Vette says, though her heart’s pounding. Drinking alone with Meg in her room. She doesn’t know if Meg knows what that sounds like to Vette, but…

“Let’s pay the man, then. I’ve always liked trying new things with you.” Stars, is she really flirting back? Meg calls Ion back over and hands him her credit chip. Once she gets it back, she stands up. “My speeder’s outside. Shall we?”

“Y-yeah.” Vette stands, a little uneasy on her feet. It’s been a while since she drank anything, too. “Could stand to see the old ship again before I go.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” Meg smiles at her and takes her hand to lead her through the crowd. Vette bites her lip as they head out the door. She sits behind Megara on the speeder, arms wrapped around her waist. They’d flown like this before, of course, but now it feels different.

“Sure you’re fine to fly?” Vette asks.

“Never better. I think I’m twice your weight, anyhow,” Meg teases, activating the speeder and lifting them into the air. “Hold on.”

Vette squeezes her tight. They fly through the clogged airways of Nar Shaddaa, and she could swear Meg’s showing off as she narrowly misses the other speeders in flight and weaves around the buildings, until finally they land at the Fury’s pad in the spaceport. Vette breathes a sigh of relief as they step off the speeder, Meg leading the way up the loading ramp.

“See? The Force is my servant,” Megara brags as she slaps the open button on the door. “Oh, and you needn’t worry about Quinn. I sent him on a supply run halfway across the planet.”

Vette giggles, blushing. “You were planning this?”

“From the very start. I wanted a more private setting for our goodbye, anyway. It wouldn’t feel right to just say goodbye to you from the outside of some pub.” 

Vette smiles and feels like a total dope, and yet she’s _ still _not sure if Meg’s flirting. Maybe Meg’s not sure either. By the sound of it, poor woman’s never had a friend her entire life.

As they step into the Meg’s room, Megara kicks off her shoes, taking a bottle from the shelf above her desk along with two wine glasses from the cabinet. Vette sheds her jacket and hangs it on a hook on the wall, not sure where to sit — there’s only Meg’s desk chair and the bed. 

Megara pours the wine while Vette frets, handing her the glass. It’s a bubbling, clear liquid, with occasional worrying flashes of lightning arcing between the bubbles. “You sure this is safe to drink?” Vette asks.

“Not at all. Cheers.” They clink glasses. Vette eyes her for a moment, then decides, _ Oh, what the hell, _and takes a sip. She shivers, little jolts working their way down her body. 

“Whoah,” she murmurs.

“Delightful. A little surprising, like you,” Megara says, heading over to her bed and laying her drink on the nightstand before flopping down. She smiles, her eyes crinkling cutely as Vette stares. She’s never seen Megara look so relaxed. It’s very...inviting.

“You needn’t stand,” Megara says, patting the pillow next to her. “Plenty of room.”

Vette takes a long drink, polishing off her glass, as she tries to calm herself down. The zaps aren’t helping with that, really, but at least her hands are free when she goes to lay beside Megara on the bed. As soon as she does, she complains, “Hey, this is way softer than mine!”

“You never asked for a nicer bed,” Megara teases, shifting to her side. “I’dve bought one for you, you know, but you just took the cot without complaint.”

“Just what I was used to,” Vette says, turning to face her. Megara’s lips purse, and she leans over to the side and takes another drink before speaking again.

“You ought to be used to more. Riches and luxury. You deserve it,” Megara murmurs, her hand reaching out and tracing patterns in the sheets between their bodies. “You say I’m so kind to you, but…”

“I—I’m nothing special, c’mon,” Vette stammers. She bites her lip. Meg’s starting to look more drunk, now. 

“You’ve been _ fun, _Vette. I don’t think you understand how valuable that is.” Megara’s looking her in the eye, now — or at least, Vette thinks she is. “You always make me laugh, lift my spirits. You’ve made this whole...experience of being Baras’ apprentice so much more bearable.” She swallows. “When I was in the academy, I’d use Jedi techniques to...to fade away from the situations I was in. Disconnect myself. I never wanted to do that when you were around.”

Vette takes in a deep breath. “Meg…”

“When it was just me and Quinn, I went back to that,” Meg murmurs. “I...I really wish you would stay. It’s selfish of me, but…”

Vette shudders. She wants to stay, too. She’s wanted to stay for a while, even though it’s stupid, and it’s wrong, to stick by and help a Sith accomplish her missions. Give up helping the Twi’lek people, for...what? A pretty face? And yet, the desire’s been there, and it aches in her as she hears Meg talk.

“I’m sorry,” Megara mumbles, looking down. “I shouldn’t have said—”

“It’s, it’s okay,” Vette rushes out, scooting closer to her and wrapping an arm around her. “It’s been good for me, too.”

Meg breathes a sigh of relief, returning the sideways hug — and now they’re just cuddling, Vette’s face in Meg’s chest. Meg’s as warm as she ever imagined, her arms as strong and comforting as her dreams. They lay in silence for a moment, Vette’s breathing calming, her eyes closing. Meg’s hand goes to her shoulder, slowly stroking up and down, then up to her head. Before Vette can realize what she’s about to do, Megara runs her hand down Vette’s lek, and she gasps.

“Oh— I — should I not have—” Meg stammers, pulling back a hair, but Vette pulls her back.

“It’s, just, um, they’re sensitive,” Vette says softly, trying to control her body’s response.

“I won’t—”

“It’s okay,” Vette breathes. “It—it feels good…”

“Oh.” Meg seems to be holding her breath as she slides a finger down Vette’s lek, and she squirms, biting her lip. Vette can hear Meg’s nervous laughter as she experiments with how to touch Vette, and after a minute Vette can’t stand it, it’s too nice, all of it’s too good, she can’t help herself, and she grabs Megara by the shoulders and pulls herself up and kisses her. 

Meg freezes up for a moment, and then relaxes into the kiss. Her lips are softer than Vette expected. She keeps exploring them, too lost in feeling to stop herself from using her tongue, to a soft moan from Meg. She shifts and straddles Meg’s hips, pushing her back against the bed, one hand traveling down her side and playing with the hem of her shirt. As her fingers dance against Meg’s hard abs, Megara softly pulls back, panting, “Vette…”

Vette stops in her tracks. “S-sorry, am I, am I going too fast?”

“It’s…” Megara gulps. “It’s not unwanted, I...it’s just....I’ve not done many things that you might expect a Sith to get up to in her youth.” She’s blushing. It’s too cute.

“It’s okay,” Vette assures her, leaning down and resting on top of her, softly kissing her cheek. “Guess I shoulda figured. And, um…” Vette laughs a little to herself. “You’re kinda the first girl I’ve been this into. Or, well, maybe just the one who made it kinda obvious.”

Megara laughs, sounding relieved. “Flatterer.”

“Look, maybe my older-sister thing wasn’t perfectly platonic every time,” Vette admits. She’d been thinking about it. “I...you make an impression, Meg.”

“You could turn any Sith’s head yourself, Vette.” Megara wraps her arms around Vette, humming contentedly. “I—I’m so glad you feel the same.”

“Are you kidding? I coulda sworn you caught me checking you out, like, ten times.”

Megara chuckles. “I didn’t want to assume, but…you did occasionally look at me as though I were a diamond ripe for the stealing.”

“Mmm. Prettier.” Vette kisses her cheek again, then rolls off, letting Megara’s body envelop her. “So you don’t wanna…”

“...I hope I don’t offend.”

“Mm. No.” Vette nuzzles into her neck. “You should be careful when you touch my lekku if you don’t want me thinkin’, though.” In response, Megara gently squeezes one, and Vette squirms. “You tease!” she says, hitting Megara’s chest as she laughs.

“You make it too easy.” Megara sighs and pulls Vette closer. “I can’t say how long I wanted this.”

“I know how you feel.” Vette could fall asleep here. She can feel herself nodding off as they settle into each other, Megara going slack on the bed. 

As they start to drift towards sleep, Megara asks softly, “What do we do now?”

“I’ll stay,” Vette says simply.

“Truly?” Megara’s voice cracks.

“Yeah.” Vette kisses her collarbone. “Till you’re free, too.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to [quandary](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/quandary) for beta-ing this for me and supporting me! She also drew me a [picture!](https://quandary-peak.tumblr.com/post/187454877125/a-commission-i-had-the-pleasure-of-doing-for)


	2. Clarity

The first time Megara encounters a Jedi Master, it is an utter disappointment.

Seeing Nomen Karr’s holo at the end of a tunnel of Republic soldiers is surprising enough, but more surprising is what the men at the controls say as she and Vette enter the command room of the station.

“Sir, you didn’t tell us we were tracking a Sith!” 

“I told you what you needed to know, Hirosho. Stay calm. I anticipated this possibility,” Karr replies, hands behind his back. Just then, he appears to spot Megara and Vette approaching, and his eyes widen.

“You mean to tell me you didn’t see fit to inform your own men of the danger they were courting?” Megara asks, folding her arms as Hirosho and his men turn to face her. 

“I didn’t mean to tell you anything, Sith, but here you are regardless,” Karr notes, a frown coming over his face. “Please. These men are civilians. They knew nothing of their target—”

“You conscripted civilians to do this?” Megara interrupts, wanting to growl deep in her throat. “You know, I thought I read in the Korriban archives that these were the precise tactics of the sort disavowed by your Order.”

“Oh, ouch,” Vette remarks, cocking a hip. “You know, between this guy and the girl on Balmorra, you Jedi really haven’t been living up to your rep.”

“You will not goad me, Sith,” Karr insists, though his brow furrows. “I ask you to let them go. Destroy their equipment, the whole station, if you must, but leave the men alive.”

“So long as they lay down their weapons and leave in peace,” Megara agrees. “Then you and I have things to discuss, Karr.”

“So long as they include the terms of your surrender.”

“Perhaps they might.”

As Hirosho and his men quickly file out of the room towards the escape pods, Megara feels goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. Her hands go to her sabers, thumbs over the triggers, almost by instinct. Nomen Karr clears his throat.

“I see you are somewhat of an interesting Sith yourself. A Chiss, who accepts the surrender of her enemies. An odd choice for Baras’ secret weapon.”

Megara scoffs. “Of all the secrets that Baras has, I doubt I’d count myself among them. I’m his pride and joy, or so he claims.”

“Nonetheless. I’m afraid you’ve been deceived, Sith. While Hirosho and his men were indeed civilians, I have kept the finest soldiers in reserve closeby. They have already docked with the station and are on their way to capture you now.” He folds his hands behind his back and smirks, as though he’s proud. Megara understands her own power, and wonders why he doesn’t, if he knows the first thing about her at all. Still, an attempt must be made to reach him.

“I intend to surrender myself to them, on the condition that you allow myself and your Padawan to meet.”

“Wow, you’re really going for it,” Vette remarks, raising her eyebrows at Megara. 

“Absolutely not. You will be kept in solitary confinement with maximum security surrounding you until Baras is defeated and his network exposed,” Karr says, narrowing his eyes. “You will be an excellent bait, perhaps on neutral ground where Baras can attempt to extract you — fruitlessly. I’ll draw him out of hiding and—”

“I need to meet with your Padawan,” Megara insists, though rage sparks to life in her chest, a nagging feeling that there is something wrong here, wrong with Karr, wrong with this attempt to escape. “I need her to see me. She can tell you, I am not the dutiful Sith I pretend to be, I am, I can be, so much more for the Jedi—”

“I’ll not listen to your manipulations, Sith. You will come by my terms or you will be subdued by force.”

The door opens behind Megara, and a filtered voice tells her to put her hands up. Megara’s fingers twitch. “Uh, Meg?” Vette murmurs. “What’re we doin? ‘Cuz…”

“I will not be taken from one cage to another,” Megara says. “Order your men to stand down. I don’t want to kill any more.”

“You are too valuable a target to lose.”

“I am not a pawn in your rivalry!” Megara shouts, sparks flying off her fingertips. “Nor is your Padawan! You and Baras, you’re just the same beast in different skin.”

“Enough. Major — take the Sith into custody.”

Before the second word of “Open fire!” leaves the commander’s mouth, Megara pivots in place and throws her lightsabers across the room. As soon as they fly point-first into the commander’s chest, she pulls her hands apart and sends them twirling around the room, decapitating soldier after soldier. 

They’re all dead before they fire a shot. 

Karr steps back, struggling to form words, but the sabers fly back into Megara’s hands and she turns and stabs them straight through the holoterminal, his body fading. The next minute is a blur of sparks and fire, Megara throwing herself at every machine she can see and slashing them to pieces, letting out a scream of frustration at each console she destroys. 

The station suddenly shakes, the lights flickering, and the distant boom of turbolasers brings her back to reality. Vette stares at her, wide-eyed and shaking, as she turns from the latest subject of her rage, panting, slicking her sweaty hair back.

“Meg?” Vette asks quietly.

Megara takes in a deep breath.

She lets it go.

“We need to leave, Vette. Karr’s soldiers intend to destroy the station.” She deactivates her sabers and clips them to her belt. “Quinn,” she says, bringing up her wrist-comm to her face. “Prepare for immediate detachment and combat with Republic vessel.”

“Right away, my lord.”

Megara swallows and approaches Vette. “Shall we?” she asks, holding out a hand.

“...Yeah. Sure.” Vette’s hand is light upon Megara’s, but there is no time to talk, and much running to be done.

* * *

It's almost an hour after the ship lights dim that Vette knocks on Megara's door. It comes through to Megara's head through a haze, and she's grateful for the disruption, for the Force feels like static on her skin instead of calming her as it usually does during meditation.

She waves a hand and opens the door, standing up from her knees to see Vette hanging back from the doorway, like she's afraid to step inside.

"Come in," Megara offers. "I don't bite."

"You sure?" Vette asks, a little smile coming to her face. 

"Fairly. Please."

Vette steps in, the door closing behind her, but she leans back against it, still. Something in Megara's chest aches. 

"I frightened you," she says, right as Vette starts to open her mouth. 

"...yeah. Kinda." Vette swallows. "I've never seen you like that before."

"I...try to maintain my composure. I take some pride in it." Megara sits down on the edge of her bed, running a hand through her hair. "I was just...I always admired the Jedi, in some way. There is no emotion, there is peace. The idea was always appealing. I tried to be that way. Emotionless. And then I meet a Jedi Master, and he's…"

"An insufferable old bastard who needs to take the lightsaber out of his ass?" Vette suggests, helpfully. 

Megara chuckles. "Yes, precisely that, Vette. You always know what to say."

"I'm invaluable." Vette finally approaches her, sitting down beside her.

"The truth is, while I tried to follow that idea, it was always something else. I hold my emotions back until I need to use them as a weapon. But the situation unbalanced me. I couldn't deal with his...his cruelty, his callousness, the way he saw people as pawns. Is it all a lie, what I read about them? Are the Sith right to call them hypocrites?" Megara asks, fingers tensing on the sheets. “I thought I was reading their truths, the first-hand accounts we had stored, and yet…”

“They might be hypocrites,” Vette admits. “I mean, I haven’t really met many. And the ones we’ve met together...none of them have been that amazing. And you kinda whupped ‘em, most of the time.”

Megara chuckles. “I wouldn’t consider martial prowess to be indicative of moral worth, but you aren’t wrong, either.” She sighs again. “I just want her to see me. I want to know what she’d see, if she looked into my soul.”

“You mean his Padawan, huh?” Vette asks, taking Megara’s hand gently in her own. 

“I’ve fought to survive all my life, looking for some way out of the part I’ve been trapped in.” Megara swallows. "I'm not sure what that's made me into."

"I don't know if I can, like, tell you that for sure," Vette admits, "I can't sum it all up neatly, but...I see you. I think you're worth sticking around for. I hope you know that means a lot, from me."

Megara squeezes her hand. “Thank you. I--I’m still sorry. About how I acted.”

“We all rage out sometimes, you’re just more...lethal than most people,” Vette says. “But yeah, if you can avoid doing that again, that’d be great. And if you need to talk, just...remember I’m here, all right?”

“I wasn’t sure you would still be here,” Megara admits. “After that...display. We’ve only been together a day. I wasn’t sure...you were coming back.”

“No way, this is my bed now, I’m not sleeping on that cot again.” Vette pushes against her shoulder. “Sorry if I freaked you out. Just need a minute to get myself together. I don’t go back on my decisions that easy.”

“You had every right.” Megara lets herself relax, leaning into Vette’s side. “I am...you’ve no idea how grateful I am for you, Vette.”

“Why don’t you give me a clue, then?” Vette asks, turning and cupping Megara’s chin, leading her down into a kiss. There is an urge, then, in Megara, to collapse utterly, to let Vette hold her up or lay her down as she sees fit, and like many feelings she’s had towards Vette over the past few weeks, it surprises her, a blush coming to her cheeks. As Vette pulls away, her eyes capture Megara and hold her there, mouth slightly agape, and Vette giggles.

“Yeah. I got an idea.” 

Vette pulls her back in, and Megara surrenders, and lets go, and thinks the Jedi are probably wrong about love, too.

* * *

When Megara and Vette walk through the gates into the Reclamation Service base, the both of them sigh in relief as they leave the dusty, hot air of Tatooine. Air conditioning never felt more welcome. 

“I think this is the first time in my life I’ve ever been  _ glad  _ to go to an Imperial base,” Vette comments, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh. We still smell like sand demon crap.”

“I hope they have some accommodations for us,” Megara notes. “I’d hate to have to set up our tent inside just to have privacy.”

“A shower,” Vette sighs dreamily as they walk through the halls towards the command center. “Can you imagine the luxury?”   


Megara laughs softly. “We’ve only been here a day, Vette.”

“Hey, there’s  _ two suns  _ here. That means we’ve been here two days.”   


“I cannot argue with that logic, though astronomy might.” They headed up the ramp to find Captain Golah, who looked downcast to discover they did not have Darth Silthar with them. After a brief discussion about what they found in the desert, his nose visibly wrinkling, Megara asks him if there was a place they could stay for the night.

“I suppose Lord Silthar’s chambers are available, now,” he said, his eyes going to his feet. “As leading Sith of this operation now, you are entitled to them, as is your...companion?”   


“My partner,” Megara corrects.

“Right. Well, until we have more information on the device you retrieved — we’ll be studying it tonight, of course — we’ll make ourselves at your service. We can clean your armor for you if you’d like to leave it outside your chambers.”

“That will do excellently, Captain,” Megara says with a nod. “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, we’ve had a rather eventful day.”

“A sand demon shed its skin all over us,” Vette adds helpfully.

“Apologies for the stench.”

Golah laughs a little at the two of them, then sends one of the ensigns with them to show them to their rooms. As soon as they’re inside, Vette drops her blasters to the floor and starts to strip out of her armor, and the sight of her makes Megara stop in her tracks, feeling color come to her cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna just stand there,” Vette says with a smirk as she catches her staring. “I’m not letting you fill our room with sand demon stink.”

“...right,” Megara breaths, looking away and starting to work on her own armor. When she’s down to her bodysuit, she finds Vette in a similar state, and picks up their soiled armor from the floor and sets it outside the door. Vette stretches and sighs in relief, and Megara finds herself staring again, heart beating faster in her chest.

“You may have the first shower, if you like,” Megara suggests, gesturing to the bathroom that branches off from their rather spacious bedroom, with an equally spacious bed.

Vette raises her eyebrows, her eyes capturing Megara’s. “Or we could just shower together.”

Megara breaks out in goosebumps, feeling rooted to the floor. “I suppose we could,” she says, knowing how purple she must be. 

Vette chuckles and approaches her, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek. “We don’t have to if you’re not ready,” she murmurs. The feeling of her fingertips lightly brushing Megara’s skin makes it hard to think. “But it  _ would  _ be more efficient.”

“It would,” Megara admits, wanting to touch her, but her arms feel pinned to her sides. Her breath is shallow. She feels like such a fool — the fearsome Sith warrior, unable to handle the thought of seeing a woman naked. How old is she? 

Vette leans up and kisses her cheek. “Get my zipper?” she asks, turning around, giving Megara an opportunity to shake her head clear. She takes hold of the zipper and pulls it down, kneeling to finish it off, and Vette steps out of her bodysuit, crossing her arms to take off her sports bra. Megara bites her lip and averts her eyes as Vette turns back around, circling around behind Megara to unzip her. 

As Vette draws the zipper down Megara’s body, she plants a peck on her shoulderblade. “It doesn’t have to be anything big,” she whispers. “Promise. I won’t push it. We can just shower.”  
“I suppose you have more...experience than I.” Megara swallows.

Vette reaches the end of the zipper, then embraces her from behind. “Yeah, some,” she admits. “With guys, though. Other twi’leks. Nobody like you.”

Megara closes her eyes and leans into Vette’s body. “I should think people like me are vanishingly rare.”

“Yep. You’re special, all right.” Vette kisses her back again, nuzzling her forehead between Megara’s shoulders. “You ready to move, now?”

Megara nods, stepping out of her suit and Vette’s arms. Vette comes back around, heading for the shower.

“Come in whenever you’re ready,” she calls from the bathroom, the water starting up. “Or don’t! Promise I won’t be offended.”

“Thank you,” Megara whispers, more to herself than Vette. She relaxes once Vette’s out of sight, and breathes. She does want this. Quite a bit, actually. She sits down on the edge of the bed and closes her eyes, regains her composure. 

Removing the last of her clothes feels like an act of will rivaling or perhaps exceeding standing before the sand demon’s might and staring it down, but she does it, running a hand through her hair and staring at the bathroom door. 

Vette won’t push, she reminds herself. Not unless Megara wants it. She’s not like anyone else in Megara’s life, everyone who wants, expects, so much from her. That thought is enough for her to finally enter the bathroom, opening the door to the shower stall. Vette, slick and shiny, smiles at her as soon as she sees her, making room for her in the space.

“Check out his body wash,” she said, picking up the item in question from the soapdish. “I was kinda intimidated by it. I bet it costs more than my first speeder.” She hands it to Megara over her shoulder, and Megara peers at it, reading the label, recognizing the name of a high-class cosmetic shop they’d passed in Dromund Kaas.

“I suspect you’re right,” she said with a soft laugh. “But who wouldn’t need such a thing for this awful desert?”

“It better smell  _ amazing, _ ” Vette demands. “Get my back, yeah?”   


“Of course.” Megara feels some of the tension drain from her body. Vette’s levity is always such a comfort. She’s right — this needn’t be something dramatic. She squeezes out some of the body wash (stars, it  _ does  _ smell amazing, like the crackle in the air after a lightning strike) and rubs it over Vette’s shoulders, digging her thumbs into the knotted muscles on her back. Vette sighs and braces herself against the wall, humming softly.

“Oh, we  _ needed  _ this,” Vette says, Megara slowly working her hands down her back, trying to keep up her courage. “No Quinn around to bug us, real shower with real water, room to ourselves…”

“Quinn means us no harm.” Megara bites her lip, bracing her hands on Vette’s hips.

“Mm, sure, yeah, but still.” Vette turns around in Megara’s arms, kissing her collarbone. “Nice to have a break.”

“It won’t last.”

“Never does. Doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy it.” 

“You’re a font of wisdom, Vette,” Megara says with a smile. “I ought to record what you say and submit it to the Imperial Archives.”

“Flatterer,” Vette accuses. 

“I speak only truth. To you, at least.”   


Vette chuckles, then takes up the bottle from the soapdish. “Turn around, sweet-talker. I’ll get your back too.”

Meg nods, and as she lets Vette wash her, she notices that Vette avoids lingering too long, going too far down. She finds herself wishing that she wouldn’t. Despite her hesitance earlier, she can feel that sense coming to her, the same one she gets when Vette takes her by the shoulders and kisses her deeply, that she just wants Vette to do whatever she wants. Her heart’s pounding.

“I can get your hair, too,” Vette suggests as she withdraws her hands. “You’re gonna have to lean down, though. It’s like washing a tree.”   


Megara laughs, a shiver running through her body. “I think you enjoy my height,” she says, kneeling down on the tile floor. “I rather do.”

“I know you do,” Vette teases. “Seeing you lean over dudes to assert your dominance is, like, the most fun part of my day. Oh, by the way, never washed anyone’s hair before, don’t got none myself, so if I do something weird let me know.”

“It’s not terribly complex. Shampoo first.” 

“Okay, good, you knew I was reaching for the wrong one,” Vette says with a laugh. “Force powers save the day again.”

“Mm,” is all Meg can manage as she feels Vette’s fingers working their way through her hair, grazing her scalp. “And rinse,” she says softly. Vette steps back and lets the water hit Megara again, running her hands through to get the shampoo out, then repeats her process with the conditioner.

“Oh, wow,” Vette murmurs. “It got so soft so fast. Cool.”

“Perhaps I should invest in something so fine next time we stop somewhere civilized,” Megara muses, before looking over her shoulder. When she does, from her position on the floor she sees all of Vette, the water running in streams down her body, dripping off her small breasts, and she feels an  _ ache  _ throughout her body, a surge, a want, and she shudders. She doesn’t know how to say it, how to let Vette know, and she quickly gets to her feet, still facing away to hide her blush. Vette takes it in stride, humming something to herself as she soaps her front down. Megara thinks.

She thinks of the first time they kissed, when she’d stroked Vette’s lekku without quite understanding the significance of the act and it made Vette practically pounce on her, even starting to take off Megara’s shirt before Megara pulled back. The memory stirs that  _ want  _ even further in Megara’s belly, and she turns to face Vette, catching her eyes and her smile. Vette silently offers up the bottle, and Megara takes it, squeezing out a little into her palm before setting it aside and rubbing her hands together. She carefully sets her hands down on Vette’s scalp, starting there and moving backward over the tops of her lekku, and is rewarded with Vette’s posture tightening, her breath getting shallow.

“Meg,” she murmurs, putting her hands on Megara’s hips. 

“Mm?” Megara slowly moves her hands back, and down the length of her lekku. Vette shivers.

“I…” Vette swallows. Meg’s body feels taut, pulled tight. She reaches the end of Vette’s lekku and gently squeezes the tips between two fingers, and Vette suddenly pushes Megara against the opposite wall, panting and staring up at her with eyes blown wide and dark.

“I said n-not to mess with my lekku unless you wanted me thinking,” Vette gasps, her eyebrows narrowed.

“...and if I did want you thinking?” Meg’s words are heavy in her mouth, but she manages to get them out, and even to smile nervously as she says it. Her chest rises and falls, and Vette is staring, and Megara is pleading in her mind,  _ please. _

Vette puts her palms against Meg’s shoulders, bracing herself against her, and leans up to capture her lips, kissing her hard. Megara lets out a moan, closing her eyes, feeling Vette’s hands hesitantly move down her body, stopping just above her breasts as they kiss. Vette breaks off, a hunger in her gaze, and moves to Megara’s neck, sucking a purple bruise into her skin.

“Vette,” Megara begs, taking hold of one of Vette’s wrists and tugging it down. As Vette’s hand passes across her breast, she seizes, shakes, wants so much more she can barely stand it, her teeth digging into her lower lip. Vette chuckles into Megara’s neck, her hand shaking as she experimentally runs a thumb over Megara’s nipple, and her groan is enough to embolden Vette. 

She takes Megara’s breasts in both hands and squeezes, breaking off from her neck to put her forehead against her collarbone. Megara practically collapses against the corner of the shower, her feet struggling to hold herself up as she spreads her legs, gasping for breath, still wanting  _ more,  _ holding onto Vette’s shoulders to keep herself upright. She gasps out Vette’s name again, digging her nails into Vette’s back, and that seems to be enough to give her the message.

When Vette cups Megara between her open legs she lets out a cry, stiffening her body, unconsciously using the Force to hold herself in place to give Vette’s wandering hand the best access. She clenches her teeth together, hissing through her nose, feeling wetter than ever even though Vette’s body blocks the stream from the shower. Vette starts slow but quickly ramps up her pace as she sees how Megara reacts, rubbing in tight circles. Warmth and tension rapidly build in Meg’s core, and when it peaks, everything seems to stop for a moment, no sound in the air but Megara’s scream.

She falls to the shower floor, panting hard, gulping in air. For a moment, Vette kneels down, a hand softly tracing her jawline, as if to make sure she’s not hurt. Vette kisses her forehead before standing back up and shutting off the water, sliding the shower door open. Megara reaches feebly for her, Vette promising, “Just a minute,” as she steps out. 

Megara closes her eyes, putting a hand to her chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart. She loves her. That’s the only thing going through her head. She loves her, she loves her, she loves her.

Vette returns with a towel wrapped around herself and another in her hand, winding it around Megara’s shoulders to wake her from her bliss. “Hey,” she says softly, sweetly, and finds herself pulled down to Meg’s level, Megara’s arms tight around her. She giggles and kisses Megara’s ear.

“Did you notice that you stopped the whole room for a second there?” Vette asks teasingly.

“What?” Megara asks, blinking.

“You, like, froze all the water in place, and I couldn’t move. Gotta say, you know how to make a girl feel appreciated.”

“I... didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Nope. Not a bit. Just a little confused for a second before I figured it out.” 

“Good,” Megara sighs, nuzzling her head into Vette’s shoulder, rubbing a hand up and down her back. “I never want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Vette whispers. 

Megara swallows. She wants to say it. She feels like she  _ needs  _ Vette to know. Before she can summon the words from her throat, Vette’s pulling her back to her feet, rubbing down her body with the towel and making her jitter and even more distracted. Vette hands her the towel, and Megara regains enough composure to vigorously dry her hair and wrap the towel around her shoulders afterward. Vette giggles, looking up at her.

“It’s sticking out all crazy now,” Vette informs Meg, giving her a light peck on the lips. “You’re so cute.”

Megara’s heart jumps. “You’d — you’d be the first to say so.”

“Mm. That’s me. Bold and adventurous.” Vette smiles and takes her hand. “C’mon.”

Vette pulls her back into the bedroom, practically slinging her right onto the bed. Megara lands on her back, laughing as she bounces, wriggling backwards until her head’s resting on a pillow and she can look at Vette properly. She still stands at the foot of the bed, eyes sweeping up and down Megara’s body, and Meg feels her heart start to pound again at the hungry look in Vette’s eye. It feels selfish, and greedy, but the way Vette’s looking at her makes her want more, and then Vette licks her lips and Megara can’t help herself. She spreads her legs, propping herself up on her elbows. Vette drops her towel and crawls onto the bed, settling herself between Megara’s legs, pressing a long kiss to her inner thigh.

Vette kisses her way up, one hand on Megara’s lips, rubbing in slow circles to keep her tense and ready and slick. When Vette’s mouth reaches Megara’s clit, she seizes, her elbows giving out beneath her. She clutches the pillow around her head to muffle her moan. Vette chuckles against her skin and gives her another kiss there, then flicks her tongue out, and Megara is surely blessed.

Vette experiments, at first, enough to keep Megara heightened and anticipating but not frustrated. When she finds her rhythm, Megara can only keep clutching at the pillow, breathing hard, trying to match Vette’s pace with the movement of her own hips. She quickly starts to feel herself unravel again, and although she tries to maintain control she fails utterly, and half the books on the shelves around the bed tumble to the floor as she desperately attempts to hold her cry in. She spasms, her whole body dropping flat to the bed and squirming, Vette laughing as she raises herself up with her hands braced on Megara’s thighs. 

Vette covers her mouth with a hand to try and stop her giggling, and Megara’s whole face burns. She should have better control of herself. She should be touching Vette too, giving her these feelings, this ecstasy, not just sitting here and greedily taking it. As soon as Vette starts to crawl up to lay beside her, Megara turns over and buries her face in the pillow, her body aching.

“Hey, hey,” Vette whispers, running a hand up and down her back. “You okay?”   


Megara feels a lump in her throat, and her words are too big to get past it, but she doesn’t know what other words to use that wouldn’t feel small and stupid. 

“Meg?” Vette asks, and she sounds afraid, and she shouldn’t be, she’s done nothing wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Megara answers into her pillow.

“For what?” Vette kisses the back of her neck. “You’re okay. Really.”   


“But shouldn’t I…?”   


“Hey. There’s no rules here except the ones we make, okay?”

Vette’s hand comforts Meg, and some of the adrenaline in her veins starts to subside. Stars, she feels like she’s just won a fight for her life. She sniffs and turns her head to look at Vette, and she’s so beautiful, her lips pursed, eyebrows furrowed.

“I am sorry,” Megara repeats, her breath starting to slow. “I’m...I’m not used to such, such intense emotion.”

“It’s not...bad, right?”   


“No, no.” Megara swallows. “It’s — it’s so good it doesn’t feel like I deserve it.”

“Of course you do,” Vette whispers, kissing her forehead. “That’s why I gave it to you.”   


“But — don’t I owe you more?”

Vette laughs softly. “Meg, there’s no, like, sex credit chips being exchanged here, all right?” 

Megara chuckles slightly in response, her body relaxing into the sheets. “I suppose not.”

“Besides. There’s  _ still  _ stuff I wanna do to you. I don’t think you get how much I like making you go crazy like that,” Vette continues with a grin, her hand reaching down and smacking Megara’s backside. “Believe me, I’m getting something outta this.”

“Oh,” Meg breathes. She thinks back to how she feels when she plays with Vette’s lekku, how the act in itself is rewarding no matter what it leads to, and breathes easier again, able to enjoy Vette’s touch. They’re silent, for a time, Megara closing her eyes and rubbing her face against the pillow. It  _ is  _ very soft. Good quality. Only the best for Sith.

Vette hums, running her hand up and down Megara’s back. Then she scoots back down the bed, getting up on her knees and wrapping an arm under Meg’s stomach, tickling at her ribs. Megara jumps and laughs, feeling Vette pull her up to her elbows and knees, and then Vette’s hand travels back down and traces around her inner thighs and Megara loses her breath.

“You deserve this,” Vette whispers as her fingers slip between Meg’s lips, and she gasps, her muscles tensing to keep herself upright. Vette spends some time warming her up, her hand circling until Megara doesn’t feel like she can take any more. 

A small finger teases at her entrance, grazing lightly around the ring of muscle, and Megara understands what Vette’s hinting at and gasps, “ _ Yes _ .” When Vette enters her, Megara keens, arching her back, letting out a sob of pleasure. Vette moves slowly, deliberately, in and out, finding the spot that makes Megara cry out and rubbing her fingertip against it teasingly. She ups her pace and Megara rocks back and forth on the bed, fingers tangling in the sheets, her head dropping to the pillow and gasping for air, her mouth open and spilling onto the pillowcase, barely able to keep breathing. When she comes this time, the bookshelves are emptied entirely, her moan vibrating in her throat, everything pausing in mid-air until she slumps to the bed and it all falls.

“Vette,” Megara groans, turning over as Vette crawls back up the bed and settles into her arms. “Vette,” she breathes again, lips against Vette’s forehead.

“Hmm?” Vette hums teasingly, wriggling against her skin.

“I love you,” Megara says, before she can forget it. Vette, to her surprise, chokes. “Vette?” she asks, alarmed, but Vette just nods and sniffs.

“I love you too,” she says, her voice damp. Megara holds her close, rubbing a thumb back and forth on her shoulder. When their breath synchronizes and Megara can think straight again, she reaches out a hand and flips off the lights with the Force, drawing the covers up over them. Vette settles gratefully into the crook of Megara’s shoulder, sighing contentedly.

“I love you,” Vette repeats, kissing Megara’s bare skin. She lets out a sigh. “Oh, man, I get what you mean about intense emotion, whew.”

Megara laughs. “I didn’t even — “   


“ No moping about that, that was so much fun,” Vette says, poking her in the stomach.

“I wasn’t moping. I was making fun.”

“Good.” Vette yawned. “Tease me. I like the way you do it.”

“Duly noted.”

“So much for that shower. I think we’re dirtier than when we went in.”

“We can take another in the morning.”

“Not if it goes like this!”

“I swear on my honor as a Sith, that I will not distract us from our duties again so soon.”   


“Unless I want you to?”

“Unless you want me to.”

Vette giggles, nuzzling further into Megara, and finally, she lets sleep take her.

Though things go wrong again in the morning, as they often do in Megara’s life, she knows she has Vette by her side. Always.

* * *

“I don’t get it,” Vette says as they enter a small, circular oasis in the middle of one of Tatooine's mountain ranges, surrounded on all sides by rock. “There’s nothing here.”

“No, there’s something,” Megara murmurs, closing her eyes, her skin vibrating across her whole body. “Can you feel it? Even an echo?”   


Vette raises an eyebrow at her, but closes her eyes anyway, taking Megara’s offered hand. “I feel...something,” she admits. “Like...yeah, an echo.”

“It’s so strong here. The Force.” Megara opens her eyes and steps up the edge of the water pooling in the center of the oasis. “I’ve read about places like this. Something happened here, long ago, possibly out of all memory, and the Force created a nexus here. Power gathers here from across the planet, as if drawn by magnetism.” 

“Okay, but that doesn’t tell us anything about where this Jedi we’re looking for is,” Vette points out.

“No. It told the Padawan, though. To commune with such a place requires time and concentration.” Megara looked back at Vette. “I shall have to meditate. If I do anything strange...that is expected.”

“Need anything?” Vette asks. “I got some local narcotic...root or something back at the spaceport.”

“From that shifty Rodian?”

“Hey, never been here before, figured I’ve gotta sample the local color.”

Megara smiles to herself. “I shan’t be needing it, but thank you for the thought.” She kneels down before the water, hands on her thighs, breathing in and out with the subtle tremor in the water. Vette hangs back, settling herself in the shadow cast by the cliffs around them and leaning against the rocks. 

In, and out. The Force hangs heavy in the air, like a dense particulate smoke, coating the insides of Megara’s lungs with tar. It threatens to gnaw on her organs, hollow her out, should she fall too deep in. When Megara opens her eyes again the water is still, and the air is stagnant, and her reflection stands up before she does, rising from the water and becoming solid before her eyes.

Her skin turns pale, black veins crackling across her face like lightning, purple eyes transitioning to a sickly yellow hue. Megara stands to face her twin, guts twisting within her.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“Who are you?” the shadow repeats, a smile gracing its features. 

“I am Megara, Sith apprentice.”

The shadow laughs. “No, you are not.  _ I  _ am Megara, Sith apprentice, loyal adherent to Darth Baras. I am the monster that lurks within you, that which you fear so much.” She steps closer to Megara, sneering. “I am what you could be. What you were meant to be.”

“I was not meant to be anything.” Megara tenses her shoulders. “I am.”

“That’s right,” the shadow mocks. “You were meant to be a purple stain at the bottom of a cliff on Csilla. Those that birthed you defied destiny, and they were killed for their trouble.”

“We don’t know that.”   


“You do. Deep in your soul, you know what happens to those in the Ascendency who defy the will of the state.”

“We do not know their fate. We do not know if they managed their survival, their escape.”

“You cling to that,” the shadow accuses, “Because if there’s no certainty there, you can pretend you can escape. You cannot. You have known this since you were an infant.”

“There is no certainty in this galaxy,” Megara replies, smoothly, evenly. This vision was only that. A vision. A test, to grant clarity. The Jedi wrote of such things, but their wisdom was not what she called upon now, only her own thoughts, her own experience, and that was precisely what her shadow had as well.

“So you seek to escape me,” the shadow says, putting her hands upon her hips. “You seek to deny your upbringing, even your current circumstance. Redemption, as though one such as you can ever make up for all the lives you have ended.”

“I do not seek redemption. Only freedom.”

Her shadow’s laughter cut to her heart. “I know you, Megara. You claim to be practical. You play at competence, even-handedness, pragmatism, but what you are is a coward and a fool. You hate yourself for what you have done, and seek forgiveness as a balm for that loathing. You fear embracing the dark only because you know that the Sith eat their own. But what if you did become me?”  
Her shadow walks around her, heading towards Vette, unmoving at the cliff’s face, halfway through flipping a card laid on the ground in her game of solitaire. “You’d lose her, of course,” the shadow says. “Love is always conditional. You know that. And you fear it.”

Megara’s rooted to the ground. 

“But so much would become certain, were you to give up this lie you tell yourself,” the shadow continues, looking over her shoulder. “Instead of fearing betrayal, you would expect it, and act against it before it comes. Instead of waiting to be discovered, you revel in your power and the blood you shed, and you are the one who is feared and hated. You know your own strength, but you do not embrace it, only for your foolish sense of morality. You will die due to the light you carry within you. Why not extinguish it, and live forever?”

“Immortality is impossible,” Megara says, some chain surrounding her broken, and she can move again, standing beside the shadow, next to Vette. “I do not want it. I do not seek it.”

“Then what are you?” her shadow demands. “Sith and Jedi both seek endless life. Jedi hope to ascend into the force and maintain connection to the world, choosing to intervene at the right time, for the right reason, to spread their wisdom. Sith hope to maintain their physical forms forever.”

“I am Megara.”

“And what is it you seek?”   


Megara’s mouth went dry. 

“Have you no desires at all? Why not acquire some? A taste for blood. A love of violence and destruction to fuel your powers and turn you into wrath personified. Desire is the birth of bravery, the end of fear.” The shadow draws one saber from her belt. “If you lose that which you fear to lose, will you be made free?”

The shadow ignites the red saber suddenly, and with a cry, Megara draws both of her own and blocks the swing at Vette’s head, her arms straining under the pressure of holding back her dark half. “You defend her with the trophies of your kills,” the shadow snarls, lightning crackling across her hands, crawling up the saber. “Tremel and Ban both died for your cowardice. You’ve murdered Sith and Jedi alike to save your own skin. Does that not make you Sith?”

“ _ No!" _ Megara shouted, pushing back against her shadow’s saber, forcing it up past her chest. With that opening, she kicked the blade from the shadow’s grasp, sending it flying into the air, fading into nothing before her eyes. The shadow drew her second saber, a green streak in an overhead strike that Megara blocked with red.

“What is it you live for, then?” the shadow demands. 

Megara looks over her shoulder, for a fraction of a second. She sees Vette’s face.

“Love,” she answers, and with her free hand, she stabs her doppelganger in the chest.

The shadow drops her saber, staggering back, hands clasping over the wound. Megara approaches her as she falls to her knees.

“Do you deny me?” the shadow asks, its voice calm and measured.

“No,” Megara answers. “You reside within me. You will never be truly gone.”   


“Then, who are you?”

“I am Megara. An anomaly. An aberration. I chose my name for myself. I choose my path for myself. I am neither Sith, nor Jedi. I am simply me.”

“Then deny me no longer. Understand I am always here, waiting to slip into your skin. I was forged in the fire of your birth and training. I can always return.”   


“You may. But I will choose when and where. And it shall never be against my love.” Megara stows her sabers, and reaches out a hand. Her dark half takes it, and smiles at her.

“Then your path is clear.”

And quite suddenly, it is. A flash blinds Megara, and when she opens her eyes again she’s staring into the water from her knees.

She gets to her feet, turning to see Vette packing away her cards. “You, uh, done?” she asks, slinging her pack back over her shoulder.

“I am,” Megara answers, approaching her. When they meet, Megara takes her by the shoulders, kissing her deeply. Vette pulls back, a little short of breath.

“Good dreams, huh?”

“You could say that.” Megara looks around. “I know where I must go.”

“Great! Got, uh, a map?”   


“That step comes next.” Megara separated from Vette and started to strip off her armor. Vette raised her eyebrows.

“Meg, you’re hot and all but I am not doing it in the middle of this garbage desert.”

Megara chuckles to herself. “I’ll be but a moment.”   


When she’s down to her bodysuit, she heads back to the edge of the water. Calmly, she steps into it, closes her eyes, walks until the water covers her head. She lets herself float and opens her eyes again, and sees what she knew was there. Glowing crystals greet her in the center of the pool, a cave stretching down as far as she can see, and she follows her senses down, down, down. 

The crystals call to her, their song a haunting melody inside her mind. They sit side-by-side in the rock, twins, and as she takes hold of them both they warm in her hands, shifting their hue to a deep, sharp blue. They come off the wall with just a tug, surrendering themselves to her care. 

She rises back and breaks the surface, throwing back her wet hair and smiling. She catches Vette staring, and swims back to the beach to greet her, holding the crystals out in front of her.

“Pretty,” she says, idly rolling one with a finger. 

“It’s time I constructed my own lightsabers,” Megara informs her. “These called to me.”   


“Think the Sith are gonna be cool with that?”   


“Exar Kun wielded such colors. I am sure I will be unbothered.” Megara puts her hands together, listens to the song of the crystals, and they tell her the next step.

“The master is in the Dune Sea,” she tells Vette, pocketing the crystals for later, enjoying their warmth. “I will guide us there.”

“Think we oughta check in with our actual guide, or are we going with the space magic?” Vette asks.

“Space magic, I should think,” Megara says with a laugh. “She will not follow us there. She has nothing more to tell us.” She looks to the tops of the cliffs and spots Sharack looking down on them. “Your service was exemplary, but we must take our own path!” Megara shouts, taking Vette’s hand. “Come now. You know I shall not guide us astray.”

“Hey, no skin off my butt,” Vette says with a shrug. “You’re the one reporting to Baras.”

“So I am.”

* * *

As they step back aboard the Fury, Megara heads straight for the cargo bay, Vette trailing behind looking somewhat confused. “You gonna report to Baras, or…?” she asks, shifting from foot to foot as Megara starts to open some of the crates stacked in the back, drawing out boxes of components and setting them on the floor.

“In a moment.” Megara draws the crystals from her pockets and sets them on the floor, then sits down in front of them, crossing her legs. “I cannot wait any longer. I must...claim my own path.”

“Lotta ceremony just to make a glowstick,” Vette murmurs, sitting down beside Megara. “I never...asked you what happened in that oasis. You sure you’re all right?”  
“It would be like describing a dream to you,” Megara explains, putting a hand on Vette’s thigh. “A Force vision is...a very personal thing. If I were given time, I might write down a log of what I experienced, and then you may read it to your heart’s content. Know for now only that I love you, and that will not change, and it is what led us to our goals.”

“Oh. Cool.” Vette swallows. 

Megara looks at her fondly and takes one crystal, pressing it into Vette’s hand. “It’s more than a weapon,” she promises. “Close your eyes and feel it. Like at the oasis.”

Vette follows her instructions, and visibly relaxes. “I can’t say why, but...it feels like you.”

“Like me?”

“Like...how it feels to cuddle in bed with you.” She opens her eyes again, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to Megara’s lips. “Okay, yeah, this is real, huh? Like really real. Important...Force-y stuff.”

“Precisely.”

“Can I watch?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As Megara closes her eyes and concentrates, lifting the pieces of her new lightsabers into the air and fitting them together around the crystals, she feels Vette’s warmth beside her. And while there is no certainty in the galaxy, there is certainty in that, and that is enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to [quandary](http://www.archiveofourown.org/users/quandary) for reading this fic and drawing me another picture!


End file.
